#anyhooo

a collection of my "production notes" for true blu, as promised :-) below the cut youll find my thumbnails for each piece of chapter art, as well as some commentary

youll also notice that one of these doodles has sniper's eyebrow scar flipped, this is bc i drew it well before i actually cemented blu sniper's design ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

oh yeah and here's a video i had to make to help me visualize sniper's journey behind enemy lines in chapter 4 (made in gmod, so forgive the wacky posing)(who am i kidding, it's freakin gmod that's what youre here for)

Shout out to @sinmelae028 for inspiring me with their beautiful fanart to actually sit down and finish this chapter!(I will include their latest masterpiece at the end of this chapter below!)

Y'all this little Alastor x fem reader can be so cute sometimes. Like I'm jealous of how cute they are. I know I wrote it, but still it's unfair.

AO3 LINK HERE, but the chapter text is below like always! Also if you have no idea what I'm talking about, BUT you want to?! Previous chapter links right here: (Or you could honestly just check this one out on its own if you wanna a little hazbin hotel fluff that takes place during one of Charlie's 'Sharing Cirlces', it can KINDA stand alone) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 14–you’re here

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Anyways! On with the show and thanks for reading! CW/TW: uhhh mostly fluffy? some allusion to PTSD, some allusion to dishonesty, some allusion to capture, therapy terms

Chapter 14: Roses and Thorns

It is a decidedly stiff atmosphere in this little corner of the Hazbin hotel. 

The room feels too large for the eight of us assembled. Likely, because it’s Charlie’s hope that this room will someday be filled with more Sinners looking for redemption… 

The room has a circle of eight chairs at its center, with more folding chairs stacked in the corner. There are some hastily painted signs along the walls that contain a few different vaguely encouraging messages. The one to my left simply reads ‘Do Good!’. 

At least everyone in this group is awake and aware.

Back in the asylum, on the rare occasion any of us ‘patients’ were actually allowed to interact in a group setting like this… many of us were consistently under the influence of such a medley of drugs, so much so, that it made it difficult to form a coherent thought. Let alone remain conscious for the duration…

Though, I doubt I’ll have the same problem in this ‘sharing circle’. 

Not only does everyone in this little group seem to be aware and awake, there’s still a lingering tension carrying over from breakfast. 

Alastor and I are no longer transformed as we were, but I can still run my tongue over the small prick wounds my teeth made in my lower lip earlier when I’d lost control…

It’s just been so long since I’ve felt …anything. And now that I’ve found Alastor, it’s as if I’m feeling everything, all at once. 

I shift my gaze to the side, peering at my husband out of the corner of my eye. 

Alastor is already watching me. 

His posture is relaxed. His legs crossed casually, balancing his mug on one knee. But his claw-tipped fingers clink as he drums them repeatedly against the side of the mug. I frown.

Alastor hardly ever fidgets.

I narrow my eye in his direction and he responds only with a raise of his brows- his fingers still drumming. I glance around the circle. 

Charlie has several binders open on her lap- pointing a few different pages out to Vaggie at her right, who is nodding along. 

Niffty is out of her chair, darting around the circle, chasing after a deformed rat with a knife.

Pentious is seated next to Angel and is attempting to show him whatever the small gadget he’s been tinkering with actually does. Angel looks as though he might fall asleep at the demonstration.

Only Husk’s eyes are on Alastor and I, though, as our eyes meet- he drops his stare. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I’ve somehow only made things worse for him by interjecting on his behalf at breakfast. I flick my eye back to Alastor, who is still peering at me with raised brows, fingers still tapping. I sigh.

“You…don’t have to stay Alastor.” I say, quietly so as to not draw attention from the others.

His eyes widen a fraction and he’s silent a moment, considering and contemplating my words before he speaks.

“Do you want me to leave, Mon Coeur?” He asks finally in an equally quiet murmur. My eye widens and I shake my head.

“Of course not! I just…I don’t want you to feel you have to stay-” I start to protest, but he shakes his head at my words and interjects before I finish speaking.

“I shall stay, then.” He says with a finality before his grin widens a fraction and he adds in a slightly louder tone,

“Besides, you wouldn’t have me leave now? After all the work Charlie here has done to get me in one of these rickety chairs, would you Dearest? She’s been trying to have me attend one of these little rings of nonsense for over a week now.” He says loud enough for the rest of the assembled staff and residents to hear. He snickers slightly as Charlie’s gaze shoots up from her notes to the two of us.

I scowl at him before my lips quirk up into a smirk of my own. 

“I wouldn’t dream of disrupting the Princess’s endeavor then. Not when I know first hand just how stubborn you can be.” I retort, crossing my legs as I lean back in my seat.

Alastor blinks and it’s the only motion he makes aside from the slightest sharpening of his smile.

“Oh, I’m the stubborn one?” He asks, uncrossing his legs as I cross mine. I shoot him a grin of my own and shrug.

“What else would you call your inability to compromise or admit when you’re wrong?” I ask in a light and teasing tone. 

Alastor’s fluffy ears straighten, like he’s trying to make sure he heard me correctly. The corner of his mouth twitches, but his smile doesn’t falter.

“I would call it being a loving husband, being as the thing you wish me to compromise on involves your safety, my Dear.” He drawls casually, though his eyes are narrowed as he adds,

“Though, I do believe ‘stubborn’ fits in regards to your unwillingness to accept my help.” He quips, taking a sip from his mug with a smug grin.

I gape at him, readying to reply, but Charlie’s voice cuts through our bickering and the other ambient chatter around the room.

“ALRIGHTY! Who’s ready to kick this thing off?! I thought today, we could start by going around and naming a ‘rose’ and a ‘thorn’ about our weeks! Angel! Maybe you could go first since you said you wanted to share?” Charlie announces as she pivots to Angel who blinks up at her in confusion.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Ummm, ‘a rose and a thorn’, that’s like somethin’ good and somethin’ bad that happened this week?” He clarifies, drawing out the words to stall for some time.

Charlie nods, her smile unwavering as she gestures for Angel to go on. Angel smiles thinly before continuing.

“Okaaayy…umm, so I guess my rose would beeee…oh! I got one! Taking you guys to the bondage club yesterday was worth it just to see the way Pen held that flogger!” Angel says with a chuckle while Vaggie drops her face into her palms on the other side of the circle. Pentious raises his brows quizzically.

“Which one was the flogger, again?” He asks and Angel waggles his brows in Sir Pentious’ direction.

“The one with all the leathery tails, snake boy.” Angel says with a devilish grin as Charlie clears her throat loudly.

“Okay, Angel! That’s a …lovely rose! How about a thorn?” She prompts and Angel frowns, thinking a moment before replying.

“Right, yeah a thorn…well, we’re still not allowed to do drugs here, right?” Angel asks and my gaze widens slightly as I look to a deflated Charlie who nods.

“Yes Angel, hard drugs are still a no-go. Remember how what we said?  ‘A sober mind is primed for-” she starts to explain, but Angel waves a dismissive hand.

“Yeah, that’s my thorn. Cause I still think I’d be plenty redeemable with some of my namesake to put a little pep in my step!” He retorts, crossing all of his arms and looking to Pentious on his left.

“Your turn, Slimy” he says to Sir Pentious who grumbles.

“I’m not that slimy…” he mutters before raising his many-eyed gaze to meet Charlie’s expectant one.

“For my rose, I suppose it would be Ms. Vaggie’s exercise in trust yesterday!” He says, his grin widening to something genuine as Vaggie lifts her face from her hands, tentative hope in her gaze.

“Yeah?” She asks and Pentious nods before continuing.

“Oh, absolutely! One of the most hands-on battles I’ve had in Hell thus far! Especially since I didn’t have my egg bois or war machines! An exceptional learning experience to be sure!” He says with an earnest-sounding enthusiasm that makes Vaggie’s lips quirk into a reluctant smile.

“And I suppose my thorn was…attempting to spy on you all initially to curry favor with the almighty Vee’s. Your turn Niffty, Dear!” Pentious finishes, rushing his last words together in a mumbled admission. Alastor rolls his eyes at my side, his gaze darting to Charlie who is nodding sympathetically. 

Hearing her name, Niffty jumps up into her vacant seat between Pentious and Husk. She grins wide.

“My turn! Uh, my turn for… what are we doing again?” She asks, glancing around the circle curiously, as if she’s just noticed everyone assembled here. 

“Sharing a rose and a thorn about your week so far at the hotel!” Charlie clarifies and Niffty blinks. Vaggie sighs before clarifying,

“Something good that’s happened and something bad that’s happened this week Niffty.” Vaggie explains in a monotone, her typical resting look of stress returning. Niffty’s eye widens and she nods.

“Ohhhh, I can do that! Something good? Well, I think the best part was Sir bringing me here to clean all the nasty stuff! And it was nice seeing Sir and Pretty Lady find each other again, really romantic! The most romantic thing I’ve seen here since I killed the queen roach’s king upstairs!” She says, the words spilling out so fast it’s difficult to keep up. 

She smiles my way though, when speaking about ‘Sir and Pretty Lady’, so I assume that’s how she refers to Alastor… come to think of it, her and Husk both seem to report to him. My brow furrows as I wonder if that’s merely a staff hierarchy here within the hotel? Or something more? 

And what does she mean he ‘brought her here’? Before I can think to ask, Niffty continues.

“And something bad? Hmmm, well, I think the rats might be developing a resistance to my mace? So I’m probably gonna have to go after em’ with a knife…which reminds me!” She says before quickly jumping and flipping over the back of her chair. 

She lands with a knife in hand, stabbed into the ground- a twitching rat trapped on her blade. Niffty giggles to herself.

“Gotcha!” She says with a grin, holding up the still twitching rodent like a proper trophy. I don’t know why, but the sight has me chuckling. Alastor’s grin widens a bit at the sight too. Even Husk looks amused before Charlie reminds him it’s currently his turn to share.

“How about you Husk? Got a rose and a thorn you mind sharing with the group?” She asks, still smiling, eager, and seemingly unpreturbed by the fact Niffty is conducting an extermination alongside her sharing circle. 

Husk’s feathered brows lower as Charlie calls on him. His gaze flicks towards Alastor and I glance sidelong at my husband just in time to catch him give Husk an almost imperceptible nod, to which Husk sighs loudly in response. I arch a brow at the exchange, but remain quiet and return my attention to Husk as he speaks at my other side.

“I guess so… Uh, well I guess my thorn is still losing the whole damn pot I was about to win before I got uh…relocated here.” He says with a sidelong glare in Alastor’s direction before continuing.

“And I guess a rose would be…well, I guess the free booze is nice?” He offers with a shrug of his fuzzy shoulders. Charlie nods along and she scribbles on one of her many pads and Husk looks to me with a half a smirk.

“Looks like you’re up, Missus…what was that last name you used earlier? Heartfelt?” He asks with a knowing grin and a smirk in Alastor’s direction as well. Alastor bristles at my side as his static spikes and I have the distinct impression that, not even Husk- who seems to address Alastor with the most familiarity- yet, even he doesn’t appear to have known mine and Alastor’s last name prior to my outburst.

I swallow a lump in my throat, cutting my gaze to Alastor at my other side. He’s glaring at Husker like they’re having a silent argument. 

This man and his secrets… 

He softens his stare, though, as he catches me looking and simply gestures with a slight incline of his head for me to go on and share my rose and thorn with the group.

I clear my throat, suddenly wishing I’d focused more on thinking of something to say before everyone’s eyes were on me. But I suppose my rose is an obvious one…

“Well, I’m quite sure my rose for the week is finding Alastor after looking for him for so long…” I begin, glancing sidelong and smiling softly and the mild surprise on Alastor’s features at my words. I look towards Charlie and find her eyes tearing up at the admission and clear my throat again.

“...And for a thorn? I…” I pause, not wanting to give up yet another secret that might agitate Alastor…but I don’t want to lie, or be rude either? I’m struggling to think of something neutral, or something that might be a bit of a given…but then it hits me. A genuine, needling, little thorn that I hadn’t realized was bothering me until given the chance to reflect.

“...I suppose my thorn would be, I’ve missed my viola and my saxophone while being here. I haven’t felt inspired to play in some time, but I find myself suddenly wishing they were here…” I admit softly with a glance to Charlie for her approval that this will suffice for the purposes of her exercise. 

Charlie is grinning back at me with her usual enthusiasm and then some. She scribbles something on the pad in front of her before asking,

“I didn’t realize you played! That’s such an interesting combo of instruments! Do you play any others? Cause we have the piano in the lobby! Maybe we could do some kind of musical therapy sometime! Vaggie, do you think we could get instruments?” She asks turning to Vaggie who smiles lopsidedly at the Princess’ excitement.

“I don’t see why not.” Vaggie offers with a shrug of her shoulders and a half a smile in my direction. Charlie beams at her partner, scribbling another note down on her pad before returning her focus to the circle. To Alastor at my side.

I look to my husband as well, only to find him smiling at me with such love in his eyes… and for some unfathomable reason, the sight makes my cheeks flush. He tilts his head at the reaction and without looking to the rest of the group he says,

“You are my rose as well, My Dear. In every way.” He says, static and love wrapped around every syllable. I’m vaguely aware of Angel’s jaw dropping in shock, Charlie’s small squeal, and Niffty’s maniacle giggle. But it’s all background noise in comparison to his words.

Alastor has never been one for public displays of affection. An occasional kiss on the cheek or his hand in mine was as close as we got in public off the dance floor. Anything more and he’d whisk me away to some shadowy corner, slide a folded love note my way, or lean in to whisper something only I could hear…

But those words just now? He said as clearly and confidently as he spoke on our wedding day. My heart melts as I press my lips together in quiet glee at his admission. 

“Well that’s… adorable. Almost makes me not wanna ask for your thorn, Al.” Vaggie says with a smug smirk directed at Alastor. His static screeches briefly, as if he’s just remembered her at his other side. He flicks his gaze to Vaggie, eyes narrowing slightly, but his smile and voice are unfaltereingly cheerful.

“You shouldn’t! My ‘thorn’ was going to be your reckless endangerment of my wife-” he says, static cracking as his eyes go dark briefly, but he pauses to glance my way once more before continuing,

“-But, I suppose, seeing as she rather enjoyed your little escapade…perhaps we might turn that ‘thorn’ into a bud?” He offers and I arch a brow at the playfulness in his tone. Vaggie eyes him skeptically.

“What kinda ‘bud’?” She asks begrudgingly and Alastor grins.

“Charlie proposed musical therapy, an excellent idea by the way Charlie, Dear-” he says, tilting is head in deference to Charlie as she beams at him as he continues,

“So, I’d like to propose an activity as well! Self-defence training, specifically. Perhaps you might instruct! Seeing as you possess a certain skill with that spear of yours?” He asks, grinning at Vaggie as she narrows her eye in response. 

However, after a moment of consideration, she relents with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Actually, not a bad idea. We could focus on combat-avoidant blows, how to take down an opponent larger than you, descalation tactics… good idea Alastor.” She aquiesces and turns to Charlie who is already writing everything down. Vaggie grins at her before prodding at her side. 

“You wanna introduce the next segment? Or should I?” She offers and Charlie’s eyes shoot up, hope and joy shining bright across her every feature. 

“Oh! Would you mind, Vaggie? I just wanna make sure I’m getting all this down!” She asks and Vaggie chuckles as she nods. She slides a few papers out from Charlie’s stack of binders and walks around the circle, handing us each one.

“So, these are uh-” She glances down at the copy in her hand, reading the title aloud.

“-‘Effective Communication Reflection’ worksheets. So, uh, review the front side. Cause it outlines the techniques. Then you guys are gonna have to buddy up for the back side cause I only got three pens.” She says, reaching for some ink pens out of her pocket, she hands one to me. 

“You two love birds can be a pair. Husk and Nifty, and then Angel and Sir Pentious.” She says, handing the remaining two pens to Husk and Pentious. She nods looking around the group a moment before clearing her throat.

“So yeah! Uh, get to it and let us know if you have questions, I guess.” She says before taking her seat alongside Charlie again.

I look to the paper she’s handed us. The title of the document reads just as she said. The techniques are listed in bullet points beneath with brief explanations for each. I scan them each quickly, turnging the paper over in my hands where there are a few questions space below to write an answer to each. 

I look to Alastor, who’s sheet sits untouched in his lap. Though, he is watching me read mine with some amusement. I smirk back at him.

“Any thoughts on question number one?” I ask lightly and he arches a brow.

“I don’t believe I’ve gotten there yet, Dearest. Read it aloud for me, won’t you?” He asks and I press my lips together at the familiar phrase. He used to have me do the same with his morning paper, with the books I read, even with song lyrics sometimes.

It always made me feel special I suppose. That this man who everyone clamored around their radio’s to hear his voice, only every wanted to hear mine. So I clear my throat dramatically before reading the first question.

“‘Question one: Which of the above techniques is most challenging to implement, and why?’” I read aloud, glancing up from the paper to find him grinning at me like I’ve told the funniest joke he’s heard. I try and fail to stifle the small chuckle that escapes me.

“What is so funny?” I ask, though, I’m also chuckling myself. Alastor grins back at me and shakes his head.

“Nothing at all, My Dear. I simply never tire of hearing your voice, even when the words make little to no sense.” He offers and I roll my eye at him.

“They might make sense if you read your sheet.” I offer teasingly and his grin widens.

“Perhaps, but then I’d miss the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice, Mon Coeur.” He says smoothly and I shake my head at his flirtatious tone, returning my attention to the paper in my hands. 

“The techniques it lists are ‘maintaining eye-contact’, ‘maintaining appropriate body language’, ‘one speaker at a time’, ‘use of personal pronouns’, ‘seeking to understand before being understood’, ‘appropriate language’, ‘open-ended questions’, and ‘honesty’’...” I say, rattling off the bullet pointed list and skipping the definitions under each. I slide my gaze back to Alastor’s.

“So which of those do you find most difficult to implement?” I ask, already knowing from just the look on his face that he isn’t the least bit concerned with answering the question. He tilts his head to the side in an expression of mock-concentration.

“Hard to say, so many of the little rules seem awfully concerned with propriety, don’t they?” He asks teasingly and I roll my eye at him, chuckling softly.

“Like you aren’t? I’ve heard you tear a man’s soul to shreds while asking he maintain a smile. Literally.” I quip, arching a brow.

Alastor’s eyes widen in recognition and recollection. His gaze sombers a bit as he tilts his head once again, but in earnest interest this time.

“You have?” He asks softly, his brows drawing together as he likely does the math in his head, realization dawning on his face as he recalls the date of that particular broadcast and where I was when I heard it. I drop his gaze and begin scribbling an answer to the first question, nodding.

“Yes. I’ve heard all your broadcasts. They sell recordings of them now too…” I murmur, trying and failing not to recall that when I first heard that particular broadcast I was in no position to smile either… I clear my throat.

“I put ‘open-ended questions’ for the first answer. Ready for the second question?” I ask, lifting my gaze to his again. His expression is unreadable for a moment, still and quiet. After a moment, though, he asks for me to read the next question aloud. I oblige him.

“‘Question two: Which of the above techniques do you feel you personally should work on, and why?’” I read aloud and frown down at the paper. Alastor rolls his eyes at the question.

“Presumably the most difficult one mentioned in the first question?” He asks in a bored sounding tone. I arch a brow.

“So you’d say you think you need to work on open-ended questions?” I ask, a light note of teasing entering my tone. Alastor leans forward, elbows on his knees as he twists in his chair to face me, still taller than me by a mile even hunched over.

“Do you think I do, Ma Cher?” He asks, his eyes study me with an intense focus that makes my heart skip a beat, but I try to keep my tone teasing as I nod.

“Oh, absolutely you do.” I say quickly and his smile widens as he raises his brows.

“Do I, now? And why is that?” He asks, amusement dripping from every word.

“Because, you practically invented leading questions, which is the opposite of the technique listed here,” I say, pointing the the technique ‘open-ended questions’ on the page. Alastor chuckles and shrugs.

“And what’s so wrong with a leading question? It gets you to the point all the same, doesn’t it?” He drawls, leaning back in his chair like he’s prepared to debate the topic. I arch a brow a lift the sheet, clearing my throat dramatically before reading.

“Well, it says here, ‘open-ended questions allow the other person to open up and better explain their perspective when communicating’.” I say as I read from the front side of the sheet. Alastor huffs.

“Darling, I always allow for an explanation of one’s perspective! I’m a radio host after all! It just so happens most people’s perspectives aren’t worth the time it would take to wait for them to get there on their own!” He says triumphantly, as if he’s somehow won therapy. I chuckle in response.

“Yes, I suppose that would be your perspective…” I mumble and Alastor’s ears twitch. He leans in again, teasingly close as he utters the single word,

“Elaborate.”

I swallow hard, but nod as I do so.

“Well, Alastor, dear, you have a tendency to...engineer a conversation…” I offer and he cocks his head to side in a silent demand for me to continue.

“Meaning… well, I suppose you like a certain degree of control over the outcome of the conversation. You like to steer it, via leading questions, to achieve your own desired outcome. Which is, more often than not, that you are right and other’s perspectives weren’t worth your time in the first place.” I finish, watching his expression carefully as I speak.

He stares at me a moment…and then another. For a second, I think I might have actually rendered my ever-boisterous husband speechless before he mutters,

“And to think, I thought you didn’t wish to attend therapy today…” He grumbles and I can’t help but giggle at his petulance. His head turns at the sound, and all signs of his peevishness vanish as he looks at me. 

He’s always looked at me like that when I laugh…like it’s his favorite sound. I smile at the thought, but before I can comment on it, Vaggie claps her hands for the group’s attention.

“Okay you guys, uh give me your papers and I’ll look them over. The rest of the sharing circle is art focused though, so keep your pens. You’re gonna take turns with a blank piece of paper and try to make a cohesive picture together. You’ll start and stop on my signal.” She instructs as she hands each of us pairs a new blank piece of paper and collects the old ones.

I offer the pen to Alastor, who raises his brows at me.

“Trusting me to make the initial mark, My Dear?” He asks, eyes dancing with mischief and I grin back at him.

“Only you feel up to the challenge…” I say lightly. He grins and takes the pen, twirling it between his claw-tipped fingers with a flourish, his hand poised above the paper as Vaggie calls out for the first group to begin.

I watch in fascination as Alastor traces a long, wavy line across the center of the page, pressing his lips together in quiet concentration. Just as quickly, he adds two smaller vertical lines atop the wavy line before he abandons it to draw some smaller squares and rectangles beneath it... 

I smile in quiet adoration as I watch his bold strokes of the pen across the page. After a few minutes Vaggie calls for us to switch. Alastor offers me the pen, and I take it, flipping the paper so I can see it from his perspective.

“I was going for-” He starts, but Vaggie cuts him off with a barked,

“No explaining! Just try to go off what your partner put on the page, it’s all about non-verbal communication!” She says and Alastor glares in her direction, static crackling. I chuckle softly and place a gentle hand on his arm. When he looks to me, I place a finger to my nose, just as he used to whenever we would say the same thing at the same time in life. He gives me a genuine grin as Vaggie calls for us to start again.

I return to the wavy line at the center of the page, adding in some of Encre’s features as I’m fairly sure the wavy line is meant to be the dragon’s long winding form. To the two vertical lines, I assume are meant to be us, I add some small details to the tiny figure that represents Alastor. Sketching his side, profile as best I can in the limited time, adding his ears and antlers. 

I’ve only managed to outline my own form before Vaggie calls time again. I sigh and look up to hand Alastor the pen, only to find him staring at me with a look of…I can’t quite place the expression on his face. Love, certainly. But also something like… pride? Or wonder maybe?

He takes the pen from my hand, wordlessly as Vaggie instructed and begins again as Vaggie calls out. Alastor’s strokes now are focused on the squares and rectangles beneath. He scrawls the names of a few buildings in the entertainment district that we flew over last night, fleshing out the drawing’s background until I can clearly picture where we were once more.

Vaggie calls time again and he hands the pen to me once more. There’s a small zing of static electricity as our fingers meet and I bite my lower lip as I take the pen from him once more. I add in a few of the buildings he hadn’t gotten to yet before turning my attention to the sky.

There are no stars in the skies of Hell…but I add some anyways. Penning in constellations I remember we used to be able to see out on the Levee late at night…

Vaggie calls time again. This time she clarifies this is the last round so we should add any finishing touches this go around. I hand Alastor the pen, but he takes my hand. Holding it gently a moment before releasing all but my index finger. I look up to meet his warm smile.

‘May I?’ he mouths with a slight smirk. I nod in understanding and allow that deep blue ink of my skin to pool at the tip of my finger.

 He abandons the pen and carefully, he begins to color in the half finished figure that represents me, then adds that same color to Encre as well. He’s just finished filling in her tail when Vaggie calls time again and announces the final bout for the second participants.

I survey the image and use the ink of my skin as well to add a few more constellations, a few more shining lights in the pentagram below. Until the whole page feels peppered with the deep blue ink of my skin.

When Vaggie calls for us all to place our pens down. I set the paper between us with a grin.

It’s a bit abstract, unfinished in places too. Yet…it’s one of the most beautiful things I think I’ve ever seen. Alastor catches my unchecked smile and grins. As Vaggie concludes the exercise and declares the sharing circle over for today, Alastor leans in close.

“I’ve missed watching you paint since the day I lost you…” He murmurs against the shell of my ear and I feel my cheeks warm as I twist to face him and my nose brushes his.

“You mean since the day I lost you?” I quip, arching a brow and trying to ignore the way his proximity makes my entire body stand straighter, poised with anticipation for his next move, his next touch, even the next smirk that graces his lips as he arches a playful brow and asks,

“Now who’s asking the leading questions?”  

To Be Continued...

Again, a huge thank you to @sinmelae028 for this gorgeous fanart, truly motivated me to sit down and write the whole back half of this chapter in a single afternoon!

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BUT ANYWAY I think the reason I love chess husbands so much, besides the fact that ghosts is very special to me and literally came into my life at the best possible moment, is because they remind me that love can be easy; you can exist in a simple orbit without the fear of it crashing or colliding and its perpetual state of ‘easiness’ doesn’t have to allude to failure or too good to be true. Partnership doesn’t have to be sappy and domestic if you don’t want it to be. This sort-of love is beautiful and not terrifying.

I’ve never been great at love, but when I look at them it makes me less afraid to fall in it; if I had what they had… yeah … and maybe I see myself in the unorthodox, the absurdity and the tangled feelings but mostly I gravitate towards the comfort of finding someone who understands you and who makes a dark place feel like home.

I love how wise and gentle Robin can be and I love Julian’s wit and curiosity. They can exist as independents safe in the knowledge that when their day of activity is done they can find one another at the chess table, or in bed, or just outside looking at the stars. The love they have for each other is an electric fuzz sort-of perpetual buzz that probably gets louder in times of intimacy but mostly just exists as this background static, white noise comfort; it makes existentialism feel less daunting and ‘soulmate’ feel less cliché as opposed to a genuine accuracy. They weren’t meant to meet each other, not in literally ten thousand years, but that chance, that million-odd brush of fate brought them together and they stay together not from fear (although both are scared, but they are scared together) but by choice. Both of them are inevitably fucked-up but they don’t feel so out of control when one is with the other. They bring out the best and worst in each other but ultimately exist having known now what it’s like to belong somewhere, truly, permanently, and not want to leave. Their love is proof it’s not where you come from but who you are underneath. In death, they’ve found a reason to live <3

Good Morning Gentle Readers, you are here today with yours in name and pen, Lady Whistledown. We're going to be talking about the marriage game this season and more specifically about the Birdgerton team coached by Lady Bridgerton.

Fun fact is that Violet is actually the mother of her team's players as well as their coach, it's really lovely to see those family bonds out on the field.

But, what's of special interest to us here in the audience is the bewildering Bridgerton Boy Strategy. For those of you who don't know, for the past three seasons the Bridgerton men have all employed a strategy of low grade patheticness, yearning and intermittent begging. Now, our experts say that this is nonsense, but we have the insider scoop that it is Lady Bridgerton is the key to the whole play, as at the opportune moment she will swoop in and coach her players to pull out a ring.

This has an effect that scientists are calling "Gap Moe", but as far as we can understand from the ballroom, it just means that the woman being proposed to puts him out of her misery, having had to suffer a whole social season of on-and-off simpering quivering lips.

We've also been keeping up to date on Lady Bridgeton's best players from last season, the now Francesca Kilmartin and the boy one who married Penelope. The Kilmartin couple has been a delight to see in their retirement from the sport, but unfortunately they recieved a major upset in the middle of the season when Lord Kilmartin recieved a career (etc.) ending injury (...)

We here in the ballroom are hoping to see Francesca become a Kilmartin sister-kisser, partially for the enjoyment of our long suffering queer audience, but also partially because Francesca only recently learned to 'Get-Some' and it would be a shame to waste the chemistry between them.

Some other stuff happened with Violet Bridgertons biggest player this season, one of her sons with facial hair, and while we still don't have all the details, it seems a woman will be happier with him than without, so it seems worthwhile that he is leavig bachelorhood.

The only other player of note is Eloise Bridgerton. She has spent the past few seasons as one of the teams most contentious players, and the least interested in success at the marriage markets. A significant factor in the debates about Eloise continuing to sit on the bench is that she seems incapable of being a team player. That seems to have been remedied by her mentor relationship with her younger sister, who is in training for her debut to the social spheres, as Eloise put on a different perspective hat to assist her.